Path to Redemption
by AzureShadowMoon
Summary: Haunted by his parents death and the dissatisfaction of revenge, Rydin undertakes a mission to save himself from his guilt of leading his best friend to his death. He didn't count on this mission to lead him into a whole new mess of problems, namely an awkward Dryad by the name of Nymya... (Collab fict with Trickeynick)
1. Chapter 1

Stormwind was asleep.

Dusk was drawing along the horizon. Slowly but surely, the city was retreating on itself. Lanterns were lit as each person stumbled into their small houses packed together within the great white walls. Among the dying crowds, a youngster shuffled through. Citizens grunted and glared as he shoved passed them, dark brown eyes narrowed in determination.

_Master kept me late again. _He eyed the setting sun warily. _Mum is going lecture me. Damn it._

He ran around lampposts, skirting corners and stumbling over one of the canal bridges. He panted, recognizing the chirping of birds and the large trees as his home, the Park District. The green above the houses was a welcome sight to the tired youth.

_I hope dinners still warm. _He smiled eagerly. _Dad will love to hear how my classes are going. _

Rydin was thirteen when it happened.

He froze as a shadow, much too large to be a bird, passed over him. For a moment, he was dumfounded by the sound of wings flapping loudly in his ears. A gust of wind hit him, nearly sending him tumbling to his feet. He managed to gain his bearings, only to gape at the black creature that took up the sky.

He was mesmerized, watching the large wings and the fire that engulfed the creature. He could see the details of the armor and red glow like fire. Before he could comprehend what on Azeroth was happening, an explosion shook the ground. He watched, hanging onto a lamppost just across the canal leading to his home, as said home was suddenly a lit with raging fire. He watched, his stomach sinking in horror as the land _crumbled _and with it went the houses, the people, _his parents!_ And the black creature was sneering at him, coming forward and raising its large talon and-

Rydin woke up with a start, covered in sweat.

It took him a moment for his sight to register that he wasn't thirteen and about to be eaten by an insane dragon. He recognized the walls of his tent and exhaled, leaning back and wiping his brow. He glanced down, realizing his other hand had found his weapon, clutching the mighty black sword with white knuckled strength. He released it with a sigh, running a hand through his unruly black hair.

He was twenty one and alone. He wasn't sure if that was an improvement or not. Every night the same dream of how his parents died haunted him and there was nothing he could do. He looked outside his tent. The sun was already high in the sky.

He got up lazily, stretching and warming up for the day. He sleepily got dressed in his armor, the black metal gleaming harshly in the sparse light. He strapped his sword Oblivion to his back. He walked outside, wincing slightly at the light. The quiet rustle of trees and chirping birds greeted him. A waterfall rumbled nearby as a river ran slowly by his camp. He shivered, the mountain coldness biting underneath his armor.

Breakfast was slow business, since the fire had died out overnight and took some time reviving. He got the pot ready and started the broth, wondering idly when he'd find something more suitable to eat other then soup. His hand dipped in to test the heat. He remembered doing something similar at the beginning of his training, only to yell from the burn. Now he didn't even flinch.

_Perhaps going to hell and back can change someone. _He mused. _Just as Master always said, the journey changes the man, not the man himself._

The flapping of wings brought a grimace to his face. _Speak of the devil._ The bird landed, a cry escaping its large yellow beak. Its eagle like front was ruffled with feathers, while it hind was a golden lion.

He recognized the gryphon's rider and fought the smile on his face.

"Young Rydin." The old man that dismounted eyed the campsite with wary distain, "Up late again I see."

"Master." Rydin stood, bowing his head.

Edwin Redman sniffed at his apprentice, bringing a wrinkled hand to tighten the gauntlet on his other. Rydin watched his trainer stoop towards the fire, the silver armor looking much too big on the frail and wizened man.

"Soup again?" Edwin snorted, his grey beard jerking at the movement, "I know I taught you better…"

"Cooking's useless against a dragon, Master." Rydin confessed, slightly amused and somewhat exasperated. The elder man merely huffed.

"Kids these days." He muttered before waving over towards the clearing, "Well, what are you standing around for? The soups almost done and you know what battling on a full stomach does…"

Rydin rolled his eyes, "You've only told me for the past decade."

"And whether you're the vanquisher of a dragon or the killer of the king of the dead, you still have to train before you eat." Edwin smirked at his apprentice's dry look, "C'mon then. Hop to it."

The younger sighed fondly, unsheathing his sword as he wandered off the campsite. He watched his Master strain to pick up his own broadsword, the old man huffing as he made his way over. _Is this what we hero's have to look forward to? _He thought darkly. _Sitting around and waiting for something that'll never come?_

"Stop daydreaming and focus." Edwin called, raising his sword, "Let's begin."

Rydin charged, feeling adrenaline kick in as his master parried the strike. Even though he has learned all there is to know he always wanted to keep himself in top physical condition. For _what _or _why _was not something he liked dwelled on. It kept his mind off his dreams and his past.

Training passed as did breakfast, the two men enjoying the quiet loneliness of the camp. Somehow, though, they'd always end up talking about battle and improvement.

"It's all about knowing what attack your enemy is doing, Young Rydin." Edwin sat crossed legged before the fire. Rydin sat across from him, staring listlessly at Oblivion.

"But what if it's an opponent you've never faced before master?"

"You have conquered everything that has been thrown at you Rydin. Just follow your instincts and you will prevail. The Light makes it so." Edwin stroked his beard before standing with aged slowness, "And the light of day seems to be fading. I must return to Stormwind. You'd do yourself some good to actually come home one day."

Rydin rolled his eyes but remained silent. Edwin took that as an answer and approached his grazing gryphon. He paused halfway to crane his head back, "The citizens miss having a face to associate with the title 'Vanquisher of Deathwing'."

"Hm." The swordsman turned his head away, watching the waterfall. His master sighed and shook his head, staring up at the sky.

"Looks like we've got company."

Rydin noticed two gryphon's coming toward them. But he noticed there was only one rider. As they landed, a short, skinny man with a mud soaked cloak stumbling towards them. He shakily retrieved a letter from his messenger bag before bowing.

"Young Lords." The courier started breathlessly, "A missive from the capital. It's addressed to a Lord Edwin Redman."

"I am he." The elder took the letter, ripping it open and scanning the contents. Whatever he saw made a thoughtful frown crawl onto his face. Rydin perked up curiously.

"What is it, Master?"

"The king has asked me to bring you immediately to the battle room." The courier answered, shuffling nervously at Edwin's penetrating gaze.

"A mission Rydin. You must go. I'm getting too old to do these things." He said, tossing the letter to him flippantly. Rydin caught it easily, eyes raking over the neatly scrawled words.

"As you wish, Master. You will accompany me, though, right?"

The courier coughed awkwardly, "The king wishes for you to be alone as it's a mission he does not want known throughout the kingdom yet."

Edwin raised a thin grey eyebrow. The courier shrunk at the motion, gazing helplessly at Rydin. The apprentice slowly nodded, furrowing his eyebrows at the new information.

"As the king wishes. Let us not keep him waiting".

"Be wary." His master whispered as he passed, "I suspect it'll be a long one. The king has personally summoned you."

Rydin pursed his lips but nodded, "I'll accept anything to get away from this hole in the planet."

Edwin shot him a warning glance before patting his shoulder, "I expect a letter carrying the time you will return and your condition. Don't think one little mission can separate teacher from student. You tried that last time."

Rydin smirked, "And I almost got away with it too."

"Cheeky demon." Edwin grunted before giving his apprentice a final pat on the shoulder.

As Rydin climbed on top of the gryphon he remembered how much he hates riding these things. He much preferred his feet on the ground. After battling on the back of a dragon thousands of meters off the ground, one gains an appreciation for solid unmoving ground.

Half an hour later and clinging to the beasts back, the city spires came into view. The courier led the two swiftly over the walls. Rydin breathed out in relief as they steered towards the castle, away from _that place._

He shoved memories away as the courier led him briskly through the golden blue halls of royalty. The guards eyed his black armor, both wary and fascinated. Rydin felt himself hunch a bit, tensing at the attention he was receiving. It wasn't long before they passed through a pair of doors, leading into a room framed with weapons and maps.

A large man stood rigidly in front of Azeroth's map, covered in red lines. His armor was bold and large, a long cloak unable to hide the rippling muscle that dwarfed Rydin's. A few others stood nearby, pointing to a map on a table and murmuring. They glanced up at his arrival but gave him little mind.

The courier bowed as the King turned. Rydin remained frozen in place.

"King." Rydin inclined his head warily, "You asked for me?"

Varian Wrynn grunted, turning back to the map he was facing, eye narrowed in silent rage. The courier fled before he spoke.

"Yes." He voice was deep and commanding, but sounded strained and irritated all at once, "I have an urgent mission for you, Vanquisher of Deathwing. Listen carefully and abandon all protocol you've been taught. You've proven to be loyal to the Alliance, but this is more…personal."

Those nearby had gone silent. Rydin straightened, alert and watchful as the king unsheathed a dagger and gazed into the metal.

"The ship that was carrying my son has gone missing between us and Kalimdor. I want you to go in search of him. The code name is 'The White Pawn'." King Varian slams his knife onto the southern part of the map."We lost communication there. Please find my son Rydin. The 7th Fleet is ready to depart at the harbor."

It wasn't a question. It was an order, a demand. Rydin exhaled and nodded.

"At once my King. Is there anything else I need to know?"

Varian's eyes flashed dangerously, "if the Horde have him, show them no mercy."

"Yes sir. I will go at once." He bowed slightly, steeping back to leave. Varian withdrew the knife.

"Rydin."

The swordsman paused at the door, blinking rapidly, "Your majesty?"

"I have a partner for you to go with."

Rydin slumped in exsasperation, wanting to groan at the prospect of _teamwork._ "Please not a gnome this time."

The king ignored the comment, "An envoy of the Cenarion Circle will join the expedition. I want you to look after them as I know your violent ways in diplomatic solutions." He stared hard at the young warrior, who grimaced as memories of failed negotiations revived in his mind. "They are well versed in pacifism, a solution we must use over violence. When you get to the Harbor, look for Admiral Clifft. He will pair you with your partner and a suitable back up team. Remember, your mission is to find Prince Anduin. May the Light guide you Rydin."

Rydin left shortly afterward, making his way out of the keep while lost in thought. The idea of babysitting a tree hugger made him wince. Not only that, but he was going to be kept in line by said tree hugger. What a mess.

He took the long way to the harbor, avoiding _that place _as far as to take the path through the graveyard. The sight of large, intimidating battleships brought a nostalgic smile to his face. It faded as his search for one man began.

An hour of asking clueless workers later, he approached a heavily armored man. Admiral Clifft turned stiffly to him as he approached, crossing his gauntlets over his chest and huffing.

"Vanquisher of Deathwing, I take it? You're fashionably late."

Rydin narrowed his eyes, hunching his shoulders, "Reporting for duty, Admiral."

The admiral snorted, waving over a guard, "Go get the deer." As the guard left he muttered, "Honestly, just what is the king thinking sending all these lunatics with us…"

Rydin's lip curled into a snarl, ready to lash out verbally, when the _clip clopping _of hooves silenced him. For a moment, he mistook it as a horse, but it was too light to be their heavy footfalls. He craned his head around, eyebrows shooting up at the sight.

A Dryad.

She was smaller than most he'd seen, hiding in the forests. She had short green hair, tangled with flowers and large golden eyes that stared curiously at him. Her skin was a pale purple, standing out outlandishly among all the humans around her. Not only that, but from the waist down, she had the body of a brown deer. Around her middle, he noticed a sash. He idly wondered what a Dryad was doing in such a place as Stormwind before paling.

She couldn't be…

"Let me introduce you to Nymya. You're partner." The admiral sounded smug as the girl beamed shyly at him, "She's been waiting for you. Now let's go. We got the prince to rescue." And with that, the man walked away, barking orders to an unfortunate group of workers. Rydin swallowed and looked at the Dryad. She was rubbing her arms and glancing around anxiously.

"Hi." She said, "I'm Nymya, but he already said that, uh…" She winced, "You're Rydin, right?

He stared at her as she shuffled around. Young, inexperienced, and downright awkward. He wanted to groan. Instead, he said lowly "Let's go. We'll talk when we're on board."

Nymya jolted, looking alarmed, before smiling uneasily, "Right. The guard said there'd be an escort coming to taking us to the aircraft-"

"Wait." His eyebrow twitched. "We're flying there?"

She blinked, smiling obliviously, "Yeah, why?"

He growled, crossing his arms and snapping, "Nothing. Let's get out of here before I change my mind."

He stalked forward, and after a second's hesitance, the Dryad trotted after him. He wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. Things just seemed to be getting worse and worse for him.

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**Rydin belongs to Trickeynick. Nymya belongs to me. We do not own World of Warcraft.  
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	2. Chapter 2

Not for the first time in her life, Nymya wished she would disappear.

Stormwind was so…_big. _It was shiny and blindingly white and far too loud for her. The crowds were a traumatizing change from the woodlands. Not to mention she towered over everybody. It unnerved her, which lead her to anxiously check her hooves every few moments to see if she'd stepped on an unfortunate Gnome. Luckily, she found where she needed to go with little issues.

Well, then _he _showed up.

She knew she was supposed to get a partner. She just wasn't expecting a _celebrity. _Was this expedition really so important they needed to send _the destroyer of Deathwing?_

Maybe it was. Her only task was diplomacy in case such a situation appears. She didn't know anything else. The Gatling guns and infantry on such a large airship was definitely suspicious, but she kept her head down. If there was one thing that she learned over her single year of training in the Cenarion Circle, it was to be a pacifist as pssoible. Especially if it involved the Horde and Alliance. She despaired the thought. Why couldn't they just get a long instead of bearing grudges like little children?

She shook her head. _No, keep a calm head. You can do this Nym, just don't freak out._

The airship hadn't taken off yet, but that didn't mean the smoke wasn't giving her anxiety. Everyone was rushing around, yelling orders while the Grand Admiral shouted orders nonstop. Yet somehow those passing by would still have just enough time to gawk at her and her partner. A Dryad on an airship and _the _savior of the world.

The stares were starting to get to her. Hesitantly, she glanced at Rydin.

He was still scowling.

_Oh he's mad. _She frantically looked away. _What is he so angry about? Was it something I did? Ah, we haven't even started and I'm messing everything up! This is my first mission, gosh darn it._

She fidgeted, her hooves clicking against the wood uncomfortably. She disliked these things compared the solid earth. Dirt was softer and less unmerciful of her clumsy four legs. She could tolerate it though. She wasn't so sure Rydin could tolerate her though. She bit her lip before speaking in a rush, "So you're a warrior?"

She winced when he sent her a raised eyebrow. _Great conversation starter Nym. Pass the award for failure to this Dryad._

Luckily, Rydin didn't seem to care about anything at the moment, staring down at the busy harbor dispassionately, "I am."

"Oh." She swallowed thickly, "That's nice…"

She _really _wanted to disappear now.

"Um, do you…" she glanced around, spotting the huge black broadsword strapped to his back, "do you use that sword?"

She bit her tongue. That was a stupid question. None the less, his quiet answer was barely heard over the loud crowd, "Yes. I named it Oblivion."

"Oh. Why?"

He craned his head around, sending her a narrowed eyed look. She shrunk at his steely gaze. _Gah, shut up Nym! Shut up! He's obviously not in a sociable mood._

His scowl became fierce as the engine roared to life, his gauntlets tightening on the railing he leaned against. The Dryad watched him worriedly. He tensed when the leviathan lifted off the ground. The wind nearly pushed them off their feet, yet Rydin remained unaffected. Nymya was trying her hardest to make a scene. How embarrassing would it be to topple over now? She fretted the thought as Rydin growled in annoyance.

"God damn it." He breathed, running a hand through his hair with a tight frown, "This is going to be a long trip…"

She perked up. _He's talking. Say something! _"Er, not with this airship! I talked with the first mate and he said it'll only be a few days."

Rydin groaned, slumping against the ship. The Dryad blinked obliviously. _Maybe he hates waiting?_

He stayed like that, hunching over the railing, before he slowly lifted his head. Brown eyes were narrowed thoughtfully on her, "Can you heal illness?"

Nymya jolted, surprised, before offering a weak smile, "Y-yeah, but I'm not an _expert _or anything-"

"Can you heal motion sickness?"

Her eyebrows rose, "What?"

"I hate flying." He grumbled, burying his head into his arms, "Do you have some rain dance you can do to help me?"

Nymya wasn't sure if she should take offense to the comment, but let it slide. She was known not to watch her big mouth and if she didn't watch what she said around this guy…

"Yes." She eagerly chirped, "Why? Feeling queasy?"

He snorted, "You could say that. What do you have?"

For a moment, her mind blanked, before she rushed to open her satchel, "Oh, um, it's a little potion I know. It's made from a bit of peacebloom stem and-"

He snatched the green vial out of her hand, chugging the whole thing down right in front of her. She gaped uncomprehendingly, numbly accepting the vial back. He straightened up from his posture, stretching and sending her a look.

"When will it kick in?"

"It won't." She choked out, "You're only supposed to take a sip. Taking _all of it…_makes it worse."

There was a brief moment of silence, where he stared blankly at her and she couldn't pick up her jaw from the floor. And then he was jogging inside, green faced, and cursing under his breath.

Nymya wilted. _He hates me. Way to go Nymya, you poison your partner. Only you could accomplish something like this five minutes after you met him._

To think they'd have two more days on this barge.

Nymya wanted to groan. Things just couldn't get any worse…

Not wanting to be out in the suffocating air any longer, she carefully made her way down into the hull, to her room to get away from people for a while and to get something to eat. She winced with every hoof step that clicked against the floor. The noise was so loud that those much smaller than her passed sent her wary glances when they walked by.

The room she was assigned wasn't anything different than the others to her disappointment. She was starting to miss the woods again and the calmness it brought. She paused in the center of the room, tugging on her satchel anxiously. The hammock in the corner was ignored as she trotted to the window. Stormwind was disappearing far below as they surfaced through the clouds. The sight made her even more homesick.

After making Rydins motion sickness worse she couldn't sleep.

_Maybe I should check up on him after I eat. _She quickly dismissed the thought. How could she look into his eyes after poisoning her partner in the first 5 minutes?

That's when she spotted a small green pouch on her satchel. An idea struck her so suddenly it left her stunned by her stupidity. _I can use the herb pouch!_

She quickly threw off her satchel, opening up the pouch. She blinked, retrieving a parchment from inside. A note.

_Nym, I know how forgetful you are when you're busy and nervous so I stuffed these in here for you. Also, don't do anything stupid. Please. For all our sanity._

_-Lythia_

The Dryad felt her cheeks darken. _I'm lucky to have her as a best friend. I miss her dreadfully…_

Her eyes widened all the sudden. With her herbs she could make the potion again for Rydin. A plan formed. She would go to the kitchen and get a small shot glass and pour some of the completed potion inside. Maybe she could fix everything now all because of her best friend. There was no time to wait. Nymya didn't want to be hated throughout this entire trip.

A spark of determination and the Dryad was galloping out of her room. _I won't fail you guys. I'll definitely complete this mission professionally and correctly. Count on it!_

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	3. Chapter 3

Nymya ran through the corridors of the ship to her partner's room, dodging people and not caring if she woke others up. She was on a mission!

She stopped in front of Rydins door. She heard him vomit and cursing. She shyly knocked on the door. There was a muffled thump and some more cursing before some heavy stomping.

The door creaked open, Rydin's disheveled black hair poking through. His eyes were half lidded with heavy bags. Nymya felt a trickle of guilt. _He looks so exhausted._

He blinked at her. Then began to close the door.

Nymya put her hoof in the doorway to stop it. It was an instinct reaction, one she cringed at as she felt the splinters against her fur. Rydin was appropriately surprised, but more so annoyed, "What do you want, Nymya?"

"I'm going to help you." She explained as hastily as she could, "So let me in!"

"Why should I? You practically let me poison myself with YOUR potion!" He growled, trying to shove the door closed. She pushed her hand against it, taken back by his brute force. _He's really strong…_

"Well you shouldn't be so impulsive Rydin! Now let me in so I can help you!"

Rydin sighed in resignation, about to speak up when the ship groaned. His face turned green and he turned and ran to his window. The sounds of hurling made the dryad wince. The smell was revolting. Nymya took her chance to walk in as quietly as possible. Rydin leaned back out of the porthole, spitting in the bucket at the side of his bed. He heard Nymya put her bag on his desk. "I never said you could come in dryad."

Nym took the potion and the shot glass out of the bag as she answered Rydin with a sad tone, "Look I feel bad that I let you take the whole potion, alright? Now I'm gonna give you something to help and I'll put it in a small glass for you. I made it a bit stronger so it should work in a minute or so." While she was talking she put the potion in the glass and put it in Rydin's hand.

Rydin sniffed it suspiciously. "It smells like what you gave me earlier. Are you sure it won't poison me again?"

Nymya frowned, hurt somewhat by his doubt. She turned back to the bag and put the potion in it slowly. "You can be ignorant if you want Rydin. But that potion will help you so either take it or not."

Rydin looked at the back of her head then down at the glass. With a silent exhale, he downed it in one swig. Without missing a beat he threw the shot glass over her head bouncing it off the wall into her bag. "How long did you say it would take?"

Nymya was shocked at five things. That he took the potion, that he threw the glass, bounced it off the wall without breaking it, made it in her bag, and talked to her. She stuttered, "About a mi-minute"

Rydin sat down on the bed. He looked right at Nymya, eyes darkening, "I said we would talk when we were on board so I guess now is better than earlier. How much field experience do you have?"

"I've only done a couple diplomatic missions between my own kind... So I guess you can say little to none." She grimaced when he scowled.

"What about combat experience?"

"I graduated the top in my combat school but I've never been in a combat situation besides training exercises."

Rydin cursed the king under his breath for sending such an inexperienced tree hugger with him. "So why did you want to come on this mission?"

Nymya thought for a minute. "I love helping people and I wanted to see the world. So I volunteered. I didn't think I would've been picked out of the others that volunteered. I was the least experienced out of all of them."

Rydin mulled this over, stroking his chin, eyes narrowed on the floor. "I know you want to know about me but if I tell you the tale of the 'Vanquished of Deathwing' you won't think I'm a hero. I'm afraid to tell people the story. Not even my master knows it."

Nymya perked up. _He's talking. He's actually going to talk about it! _She sat down, folding her forelegs under her and hind legs, resembling a nesting deer. "Please tell me. I'm curious."

Rydin opened his mouth, but then shut it, shaking his head in dismay, "We'll save it for another time. I'm exhausted."

Nymya had a flash of anger flow through her and opened her mouth before speaking, "So why did you offer to tell me your past then?"

Rydin gripped Oblivions hilt, eyes flashing dangerously. Nymya gulped, leaning away from him as he spoke in a low tone, "I thought I could finally tell it but there's still too much pain in it. Now leave. I'm going to sleep."

Mechanically, Nymya stood. With stiff movements, she grabbed her bag and walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the knob, "…You never said thank you."

Her ears perked as she heard a grumble behind her, vaguely sounding like those two words. She managed a weak smile, trotting out somewhat satisfied with the results. She was still thinking of the traumatic events that happened in Rydin's life that hurt him so much. She thought all heroes had wonderful lives. She had to get to the bottom of it sometime-

"OWW!"

Nymya jumped at the scream and looked down. She had accidently stepped on this poor gnome's foot! She felt horrible. "Here let me help-"

"I don't want your help you've done enough now leave me and my broken foot alone!" The gnome limped away to the med bay cursing Nymya under his breath. Nymya didn't know what to say, gawking at his retreating back. She ducked her head. _Way to go Nymya. What's next? You blow someone up?_

She slowly crept to her room, thoroughly exhausted. Throwing her bag on the floor, she felt sad for causing so much trouble already. Rydin's previous questions haunted her mind. _Why was I sent on his mission anyway? I have a bad feeling I'm in way over my head…_

Meanwhile, Rydin sat in his room, a distant memory playing in his head.

He was back in the Bastion of Twilight. Flashes of spells and battle cries and ogres yelling left and right. His blade cut through flesh, his own cries mixing in with the other hero's. A flash of blonde at his side made him smile. Conner was there, a smiled on his face as he cut through an ogre. The light of his blade illuminated the area, the paladin turning to grin and giving a thumb up to his warrior friend. Rydin watched in slow motion as the ogre he cut down reached up and swung its club down with shattering force.

But Conner didn't move. His blue eyes were crinkled happily as he performed a healing spell. Rydin felt his wounds close, his stomach plummeting as his friend _wouldn't move._

"Conner, stop casting and _run!"_

That blood stain had a name. His name was Conner.

Rydin screamed in hatred as his childhood friend was crushed. He jumped onto Cho'gall's back, an action that brought cries of shock and surprise from the others. He gripped his axe in one hand, keeping his balance as best he could as the monster attempted to throw him off. As he got to the giants neck he yelled, swinging the huge axe and smashing it into Cho'gall's head. The giant collapsed.

In his bed, Rydin turned on his side.

If only he was faster he could have saved Conner. It was his fault. He didn't train hard enough. If he trained harder Conner would be there. The warrior gritted his teeth, his hand itching for his blade. He remembered walking out of the Twilight tower with no weapon left as he got teleported back to Stormwind.

Sleep did not come easily that night.

He woke up with a start as the airships Sirens came on, a blaring noise in his ears.

"Land spotted! Everyone to battle stations! Lookouts, be ready!" A gnomish voice practically shrieked into the intercom.

He got dressed as fast as possible. He rushed to the deck, the entire area alive with activity. Everyone was running left and right. Rydin paused for a moment to eye the cannons being brought out. _Pretty big stuff…_

He spotted the admiral amongst a crowd of crewmen, shoving his way through to the front despite their protests. "How long till we get there?".

The admiral raised an eyebrow, looking not too amused, "About five minutes, hero."

He narrowed his eyes, allowing those around him to overtake him as he moved back out of the crowd. He turned his head at the sound of hooves. "You're late Nyma."

The green haired dryad smiled sheepishly, shuffling awkwardly on her hooves, "Sorry. I couldn't find my necklace."

Rydin shook his head-_girls and their trinkets- _when he heard a night elf yell to the admiral, "Sir, I see Horde ships!"

"How many are there son?" The admiral yelled back.

"A lot, sir, and they're aiming their cannons at us!"

That was enough to send alarm and fear into those around, a mad scramble for weapons and equipment going on even without orders.

The admiral looked annoyed and yelled, "Sound the alarm. Battle stations everyone!" A flurry of movement and they were looking at the two odd ones of the crowd, "Rydin, Nyma, you two are going with the parachutes. Get on that land and find us some locals. You're mission is to find the white pawn, not start pointless fight. _Do not forget this."_

Rydin rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

Contrary to his response, Nymya eagerly saluted (and with the wrong hand, he noted dully), "Will do, Sir!"

"Good. Dismissed!"

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**We do not own Warcraft.**

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	4. Chapter 4

Nymya hesitated.

All her life, her hooves had always been on the ground. Not once did she envy the birds above or the leaves that fell from the branches. She was completely content staying on solid ground. So, when Rydin handed her a parachute, she started to panic.

"Um, how am I supposed to wear this?" She held up the tiny bag worriedly. She watched as he slipped his own on his back with reluctance, looking annoyed.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, "Dunno. Dryad's usually don't parachute. Don't they have some levitation spell or something?"

Nymya's cheek's darkened and she muttered sulkily, "We do not float."

"Too bad." He drawled, approaching the rail of the frigate. The ship rocked unsteadily, the sounds of gunfire and explosions from below growing increasingly louder. It was hard to see with so much smoke in the air, but a horde base was just in front of them.

"Better figure it out." He warned, "We're getting to our drop point."

"Uh, okay- wait, in the water?!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Yeah. Water. Safer landing then ground. There are landmines there, you know?"

"Landmines!?" She squeaked, starting to feel lightheaded. _I…I need to pull myself together. This is a battle. We've got to do our mission!_

"Get ready to drop!" A gnome nearby shouted, holding up a flare gun. Rydin grunted, hoping over the railing and perching himself on a plank. Nymya gulped and approached the rail cautiously.

"Uh, hey, Rydin, why don't I just wait for the ship to land-"

"What?" He turned his head to stare dully at her, "You're talking nonsense. Ships like these don't land."

"But, Dryad's can't swi-"

"Go, go, go!" The gnome yelled, firing off the flare.

Nymya found herself weightless, unable to believe that a gnome was able to push her off the vessel. Once that thought entered her head, she outright panicked. The ground was getting closer and closer. Her legs were flailing everywhere and she flailed wildly for the parachute cord.

She never found it.

The water wasn't cold, but fairly warm, and strangely thick. The impact felt like millions of pinpricks grating against her fur. For a moment she blacked out, shaking her head drowsily in the green tinted waters. She noticed a dark figure land in the water, the figure getting closer and closer before-

"I'm not carrying you to shore, idiot! Snap out of it and start swimming!"

She gasped for air, gazing around frantically. The sounds of battle drifted away as the giant leviathan above approached the peninsula. She struggled, coughing on water and kicking her hooves as hard as she could to stay afloat.

Rydin seemed to have enough of her flapping around like a fish and hooked an arm under her belly, lifting her whole body out of water like an empty crate.

"Wah-!"

"Just shut up." He huffed. "I've carried heavier then a wimpy deer."

She relaxed, eyeing the water fearfully as the human swam easily enough with her weight on his shoulder. She hardly believed someone who weighed less than her could carry her. Then again, she had to remind herself exactly _who _was carrying her. The destroyer of Deathwing.

"Why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?" He asked as they neared the shallows. She ungracefully hopped away, careful not to nail him with one of her hooves. They were both soaked, but thankfully alive. She wringed out her green hair anxiously, still trembling over the near drown.

"It's, um," She bit her lip, "It's not such a big deal for us. We usually stay on land anyway…so, why bother to swim?"

Rydin snorted as he wringed out his clothes, muttering something about 'tree hugger logic'. "Just stay close to me and don't get any ideas about using me as a footstool. We've got a job to do."

Reminded of their mission to recover the prince, she nodded enthusiastically, "Right! We'll go to the village first?"

"No." He shot down, wading towards shore. He didn't notice her slump in disappointment, sulking after him. "That's where both the Horde and the Alliance troops will be headed. We're going inland. There's bound to be another village where we can scope out clues."

"Okay." She nodded before eyeing the land nervously, "Um…didn't you mention landmines before?"

"Oh yeah." He grinned at her, but it looked somewhat demonic. "Better watch where you're walking then."

Nymya gapped, staring downwards fearfully. She didn't notice Rydin roll his eyes. "C'mon, before the CP9 agents beat us there."

"CP9…agents…?"

"Yeah. Kings personally hit crew." He knelt down and examined what looked like a game trail. "Biggest kiss-ass's this side of Azeroth.

"Um, technically, we're in the middle."

"Shut up."

_Me and my big mouth. _Nymya mourned. _It's going to get us all killed one day._

For a moment she was struck awe by the nature around her. The grass was a feeling so new on her hooves. It was different from her homeland. Softer, much fresher then she imagined. The blossom tress swayed in the evening sun, the petals dancing around the two adventurers merrily. Nymya found herself entranced by it.

"It's so beautiful." She awed, crouching to run her hand through the soft earth. It felt like sand but was sturdy as sandstone. She looked over at Rydin, jolting when she found he was staring at her with an unreadable look.

"…Lets just go." He murmured, turning heel and marching into the thicket.

Nymya followed.

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